


The path of true love (apparently)

by Khalehla



Series: Not the usual OTPs [11]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Crack, Game Shows, Humor, M/M, dating game, this is not a shipping war!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11003658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: Marco Reus is looking for love - what better way to find it than on a Dating Game show?





	The path of true love (apparently)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariothellama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/gifts), [tmrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmrs/gifts).



> For **mariothellama** because I love all your historical fics (but never get around to commenting) and you write three out of four of these couples **:D**  
>  And for **tmrs** \- because you know why  <3  
> .  
> Loosely inspired by the game show 'If you are the one' and _not_ to be taken seriously. I mean it, it's a crack!fic. Anyway, enjoy!

Somewhere in Germany, there is a studio that has been (maybe, probably) misappropriated. Not for any nefarious reasons though. In fact, the reason for the hijacking of said studio was all In The Name Of True Love ™, or more specifically, to host a dating game show in which four contestants have the opportunity to win the heart of one lucky contestant.

Yes dear audience, welcome to: _If You Are The One - the Football Edition!_

On the stage, loud music plays, bright lights go on, and two tall well-dressed men saunter out, waving to the crowd. The crowd, with the help of cue cards [applause], starts cheering.

“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!” the man with the slightly wavy hair says enthusiastically. “My name is Thomas.”

“And I am Lukas,” the other man takes over. “And we are your hosts for tonight’s edition of-”

“IF YOU ARE THE ONE!” Lukas and Thomas both yell together.

The applause and cheering gets louder.

“Luki I love you!” someone screams.

Lukas blows a kiss at the audience.

“Tonight, our man who is looking for love currently plays for Borussia Dortmund, and is famous for his crooked smile, free kicks, and for once sporting a truly awful llama haircut,” Lukas says with a grin.

[polite laughter] The audience chuckles.

“That’s right, folks, you know who he is, yes?” Thomas asks.

The audience cheers loudly.

“Then without further ado, let’s call on-”

Lukas and Thomas both turn dramatically around and point at the heart shaped door at the back of the stage. “MARCO REUS!”

Loud music plays again, and Marco Reus walks shyly out of the cloud that the fog machine is pumping out.

[loud applause] The audience goes crazy.

Thomas grins at his sometime national teammate. “Marco, welcome! Good to see you tonight! How you feeling?” he asks once Marco is seated on his own little podium.

“A little nervous, actually,” Marco admits with a shy smile. “I’ve never done this before and I honestly don’t know what to expect.”

“That’s okay,” Thomas says with a grin. “We’ve never done this before either so we’re all doing this together!”

Marco looks slightly panicky.

“Don’t worry Marco, we won’t let anything happen to you,” Lukas tries - and fails - to make the Dortmund forward feel better, but hey, not like Marco can run away now.

“We’ve got some awesome contestants waiting backstage to try and win your heart,” Thomas picks up. “Are you ready for them to come out and give them a chance?”

Marco gulps. “Sure. No time like the present, right?”

“So, it looks like we have a couple of current and former teammates on the show tonight,” Lukas says. “Do you know who they are?”

“No,” Marco blushes, “but I can maybe guess?”

“Let’s do that,” Thomas says. “You already know there are four contestants - give it a try.”

Marco blushes some more. “Um, Robert?”

Thomas nods.

“Auba?”

Another nod.

“Sunny? I mean, Mario?”

Lukas grins. “One more.”

“Um, who else? Not sure, maybe, Erik?”

“You got all of them first try!” Thomas exclaims, excited. He turns to the audience. “Isn’t Marco amazing?”

[polite applause] Someone in the audience whistles.

“Well, then there’s no need to delay anymore,” Lukas says. “Let’s get this show on the road. Audience, are we ready for our contestants to come out?”

[loudly agree] “YES!”

The two hosts do another dramatic turn towards the back of the stage. “Here they come!”

[loud applause][loud clapping] The audience stomps their feet, whistle and make lots of noise.

Music starts blaring again. The doors slide open with way too much fog. Four men come out like they’re back up dancers in a hip hop music video and make their way to the stools opposite the podium where Marco is sitting.

“Gentlemen, welcome,” Lukas greets them. “It’s good to see you all! Are you all excited to be here tonight?”

They nod and smile and generally look not nervous.

“Marco looks nice tonight, doesn’t he?”

The four contestants all turn to Marco, who waves at them. They all wave back.

“Well I’m sure you all want to get on with it-,”

“-and also because we only have the studio for another half hour-” Thomas interjects.

“-so why don’t we get started? You all know the rules, yes?”

They murmur in agreement.

“Then you all know that you have three minutes each to make an impression and explain why _you_ will be the person to win Marco’s heart.”

More murmurs of agreement.

“So Pierre - that’s a nice name actually,” Thomas says, turning to his co-host. Lukas nods in agreement. “So, Pierre. You’re first up. The stage is yours.”

Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang taps at his lapel microphone to make sure it’s working. “Hello everyone, I’m glad to be here. Marco is very special to me as well as very, _very_ close friend. We would be, I think, perfect for each other. Let me show you why.”

Rather dramatically, Pierre slowly reaches behind him and pulls a scrap of black cloth. You can automatically tell what everyone is thinking when there is muffled giggling coming from the audience.

Lukas clears his throat. “Is that. Is that. A _thong?_ ” he asks.

Pierre blinks at the host. “No, it is not underwear. It goes around your eyes.”

Thomas gasps. “It’s a blindfold? We’re talking about BDSM live?” Somehow Thomas manages to sound scandalised even though his facial expression is showing just how much he's enjoying himself.

Pierre rolls his eyes. “Nooooooo,” the Gabonese forward sighs dramatically.” He then wraps the scrap of cloth around his eyes and everyone can see that it is an eyemask - specifically, the same Robin one that Marco had worn during one of their legendary goal celebrations.

“Ahhh,” Lukas says, finally understanding.

“Nothing shows better compatibility than relationships forged in triumph and adversity,” Pierre says passionately.

Across the podium, Marco gives his teammate a quick smile and a double-thumbs up.

Pierre grins, then gives the host a smug look.

“Well you have to admit, he’s right,” Thomas says to Lukas with a shrug.

“Relationships with a strong friendship as its base are usually those that lasts,” Lukas nods wisely. He then turns to their next contestant. “Robert, Pierre makes a very compelling first case there, did you bring something to counter him?”

Robert Lewandowski doesn’t bring anything out; instead, he takes something off. His shirt, in particular. The audience starts cheering and whistling and Thomas fans himself. It takes quite a while for the studio to get back on track, especially since Robert has decided that he’d been sitting for too long and needed to stretch his muscles. The audience spends a long time showing how much they appreciated the perfection of those sculpted abs on display.

“We _-ell,_ ” Thomas says somewhat breathlessly. “Mr. Lewandowski. Robert. Was there anything else you wanted to, erm, add? Or take off? Or say?”

The Poland international finishes off his slow stretching then takes his seat again. “No,” he says shortly, smirking at Marco and winking salaciously. “Nothing else.”

Marco grins at Robert, then winks back.

Pierre scowls.

Thomas fans himself some more.

“Okay,” Lukas tries to get everyone’s attention again. He turns to his co-host and says, “I have to admit, that was rather interesting, wasn’t it Thomas?”

Thomas nods vigorously. “ _Very_ interesting.”

“Which makes me very curious to see what our next contestant will be bringing to the table. I thought Pierre had won right at the beginning, but I can see that this is going to be quite an intense battle.”

Thomas nods some more, then addresses the next contestant. “Erik, I hate to say this, but you’ve got your work cut out for you, pal. But we have faith in you.”

Not to be outdone, Erik Durm makes a slow show of standing and reaching to take his shirt off.

The audience collectively loses their shit ~~at yet another strip show~~.

Thomas whistles in appreciation.

Erik’s cheekbones are sharp as razors and his cupid-bow lips are moist and pink. Erik Durm knows he is pretty, and like Robert before him, is showing off, standing like an underwear model at a Calvin Klein photoshoot. Despite not having quite the sculpted physique that Robert has, the younger man can boast one thing that the Polish international doesn’t, and that’s a World Cup winner’s medal - shining in all it’s glory from around Erik’s neck.

“You have to have a winning mentality to play the game,” Erik says mysteriously, cocking his hip and giving Marco a smouldering look from under his long eyelashes.

Marco blows Erik a kiss.

Erik sits down and manages to position himself so that his spotlight is reflecting off his medal, blinding whoever he turns to.

Pierre scowls some more.

Robert looks like he’s trying to burn a hole through the medal with his eyes.

“Well,” Thomas says when the cheering finally dies down. “I must admit, things are getting _very_ hot in here.”

Lukas nods. “Now I’m really curious to see how our last contestant is going to respond to our three challengers.”

Everyone turns to Mario expectantly.

Mario Götze doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t take anything off either. Instead, his lower lip trembles and his eyes become moist. After a few silent seconds, he lets out a small breath, then slowly gets out of his seat. Mario very carefully places the item he’d brought with him on his stool, then, with agonizing slowness, walks down the steps of the stage towards the back exit, his shoulders bowed.

Someone in the audience _awwww_ s in sympathy.

“Mario, where are you going?” Surprisingly, it’s Marco who calls out, not the hosts. He’s standing at Mario’s abandoned stool with Thomas and Lukas, holding the item that Mario had brought with him. It’s a framed photo. A rather famous one, actually. It’s the one of Mario holding up Marco’s jersey to the photographers after having scored the winning goal in the Brazil World Cup finals.

Mario slowly turns and waves limply at the stage. “Hey Marco,” he says in small voice.

“Where are you going?” Marco asks again, giving the frame to Lukas.

“Home. There’s no point in me being here I guess.” Mario turns and starts shuffling away again.

Marco jogs down the stairs towards Mario, stopping the shorter man’s slow walk to the exit. “Sunny, come on, don’t be like that,” he says gently, pulling Mario into a hug. “Please tell me you’re not angry.” Even though Marco is talking softly, the microphone they are still wearing picks up everything clearly.

“It’s okay,” Mario says into Marco’s shirt. His voice is muffled and he sniffles a little. “I know when I’m beaten.”

“When have you ever given up so easily?” Marco asks. “This isn’t like you.”

Mario just sniffles some more.

“You know what will make you feel better? Pretzels. I saw a bakery on the way here, wanna go try it out?”

“Only if you want to,” is the muffled response.

Marco pulls back slightly and bumps their foreheads together. “Of course I want to. When have I ever not wanted to spend time with you?”

“Are you sure?” Mario asks, head down and voice still small. “You don’t have to leave; I’m not going to make you.”

Marco hugs him again. While Marco is still murmuring soothing words into Mario’s hair and encouraging him to go get those pretzels, Mario slowly lifts his head from Marco’s shoulder and stares in the direction of the stage, eyes hard and completely dry. He then takes his hand from around Marco’s waist and very deliberately gives everyone the middle finger.

The audience gasps.

Lukas covers his mouth to laugh.

The other three contestants glare.

“Okay,” Mario finally says in a small voice. He pushes away from Marco and gives his friend a smile. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

Marco straightens and grins broadly at his best friend. They walk out, completely forgetting the other contestants on the stage as Marco listens to Mario excitedly tell him about the new pretzel sauce flavours they can both try.

“Well, that was strange,” Lukas says when the two are out of sight.

“But we’ve learnt a valuable lesson here,” Thomas adds.

“And what’s that?”

“That nothing beats Grand Romantic GesturesTM when trying to win the heart of the one you love!”

Lukas nods in agreement. “Very true, Thomas, very true.”

"Well I guess that's it for tonight. Shall we finish up before the police arrive and arrest us all for breaking and entering and trespassing?"

"Good idea!"

"Good night folks!"

[loud applause][respond] The audience yells out "goodnight!"

"And until next time, we'll see you on-,"

“IF YOU ARE THE ONE!”

[loud applause]

[exit please]

[EXIT PLEASE]

[godamnit the police will be here any minute now EXIT PLEASE]

**Author's Note:**

> \--  
> I have a [tumblr account ](https://khalehla-blah.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. If you have a question about this or any of my other stories, come say hi :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I write **fiction** about real people. As far as I know, none of these events ever happened; any resemblance to any actual events are purely coincidental.


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